


Coming Home

by greenfire246



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-08 23:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18904423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenfire246/pseuds/greenfire246
Summary: What if Charles had stayed in town a little longer after talking with Betty and Jughead?





	1. Chapter 1

Charles stood in his mother’s old living room, having finally told his half-siblings what they deserved to know. It was strange standing in the domestic suburban house that so easily could have been his childhood home. That was now his fathers house. It was all so normal, when everything about this town was anything but. But those weren’t helpful thoughts. He had had a good life. He ended up exactly where he was meant to be. He was here for strictly business and this was exactly why he had dreaded it. Riverdale was a whirlpool of sin and vice. It was only due to his last traces of sentimentality that he had taken on this case to begin with. Which was why he was now standing awkwardly in his estranged family’s living room while Betty and Jughead sat frozen on the couch, still reeling at his recent explanation of the past few months.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but I wouldn’t have told you this if I didn’t think you could handle it” Charles said, breaking his siblings out of their thoughts, “We will bring Edgar to justice and get your mother back” He looked at Betty then, “For what it is worth, I am sorry”

“No, no. It’s not your fault” Betty reassured him, standing from her position along with her boyfriend. Jughead took her hand and squeezed it in comfort. “We appreciate you coming here”

“If you hadn’t told us, we would have found out eventually” Jughead added, an edge of weariness lacing his attempt at humor, “Nothing stays secret in this town”

“I can see that” There was a long pause in which no one spoke. It wasn’t every day you met your presumed to be dead sibling, “I had better get going. It was an honor to meet you both at last and I look forward to working with you both in the future”

“Yeah, definitely” Jughead said, “You too” Jughead shook his hand. Betty ignored his attempt at a handshake with her to instead give him a hug and a timid smile. As Charles began to leave, Betty and Jughead shared a brief loaded look.

“Charles, wait!” Betty called, just as Charles hand was hovering over the doorknob. He turned then, raising an eyebrow. There was no way anyone could mistake him for anyone other than Alice Cooper’s son in that moment. “Stay. Just for dinner. We’re family, right?” Betty wrung her hands together, trying not let her nerves show. Charles gave her a sympathetic smile and glanced at the dinner table with the slightest hint of longing before turning back to Betty. 

“Sorry, Betty. Maybe some other time”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Betty, Jughead, Jellybean, and FP sat around the kitchen table in silence as they ate their dinner. Chinese food cartons were spread messily across the table, a reminder that this was no longer the Cooper residence. Jellybean was the only one at the table who seemed blissfully unaware of the tension as she loudly crunched on the fried wonton strips. Jughead rubbed Betty’s back soothingly and she smiled back at him in return. 

“Thank you for dinner, Mr. Jones” Betty finally spoke. “And for letting me stay here, while…” Betty paused, swallowing for a moment. It felt strange sitting in her childhood home with an entirely different family. FP was sitting in her mom’s chair. Jellybean was in her father’s seat. Now her mother was missing and her father was dead. Betty didn’t realize she was clenching her hands so hard she was bleeding until Jughead gently placed his hand over hers. She offered him a weak smile.

“Of course. You’re always welcome here, Betty” FP cleared his throat, “So how are you, uh, how is everything?” Jughead shot his father a glare.

“I’m okay” Betty replied, “I will be okay, you know…” Betty laughed, wishing she could disappear, “It’s just been a crazy few weeks”

“If you ever need to talk, just let me know” Betty just smiled again, the tension in the room rising from uncomfortable to unbearable. Her family had never had awkward silences like this before. Usually the room was filled with discussion or at the least arguing. Betty wasn’t sure which was worse, but it was obvious that things were different. Betty pushed her chair out and stood.

“I’m going to finish up some work on the car while it’s still light out” Betty announced. “Jellybean, you want to help me out?” Betty gave Jughead a brief pointed glare before turning back to Jellybean who was already getting out of her chair and rolling her eyes.

“Fine. I don’t want you to get grease all over the place again. Just let me get changed first” She shared another exasperated look with her father and brother, then put her food away and ran upstairs. They all shared a look and laughed. Betty shrugged, following the young girl up the stairs and leaving the two men alone. It wasn’t long before the awkward silence returned. 

“Dad, I have to tell you something” Jughead started, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He understood why Betty had left, but he could really have used her with him at that moment. FP sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking at the doorway where Betty had just left.

“I’m not going to like it, am I?”

“Depends. You know how Chic was the gargoyle king?”

“Yes…” Jughead took a deep breath, it would be easier to just let it all out at once than to keep it bottled up.

“Well, it turns out that the real Charles is alive. He’s an FBI agent and he’s been looking into Edgar and his farm cult for the past few years. Ms. Cooper was working as an FBI plant. He visited Betty and I today” Jughead braved a glance upwards at his father then, shivering involuntarily at FP’s dark expression. 

“Don’t lie to me. Don’t you ever lie to me” 

“Do you honestly think I could make this up?” FP studied him for a long moment, searching for any hint of a lie. But Jughead had nothing to hide. Finally, FP leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“And what was the reason for his visit?” FP finally asked.

“Just to let us know what was going on” Jughead replied. FP leaned forward, pointing an accusing finger at his son.

“What did I just say about lying, boy?”

“He wants us to help him with his investigation” Jughead admitted.

“No” FP slammed a hand on the table, causing Jughead to flinch back. “No way in hell am I letting you get involved in this mess! It’s bad enough that Alice…” FP stopped himself then, his face bright red and his hands shaking. He took a few deep breaths to collect himself.

“Dad, are you okay?”

“Promise me you won’t get involved in this” FP said once he had calmed down enough to speak again. “Both of you. I can’t…” He looked at Jughead then, his eyes earnest and pained, “I can’t lose you too”

“Dad…”

“Promise me” Jughead sighed. He knew Betty could never sit back and wait for someone else to solve things, but he also couldn’t say no to his dad.

“Fine. I won’t-” But before he could finish, he was saved by the ringing of the doorbell. Jellybean ran downstairs dressed in jean shorts and a black tank top, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was wearing fingerless gloves, ready to get started on the car. 

“Jellybean, wait-” Betty called, running after her. But it was already too late. She had opened the door and there stood Charles, dressed in the same clothes he’d worn a few hours ago. But Charles was looking over Jellybean’s shoulder as if he’d seen a ghost, his heart beating wildly in his chest. 

“Hi, dad”


	2. Chapter 2

The room was silent for a long moment, everyone waiting to see who would make the first move. It felt as if everything was frozen, suspended in time. Betty and Jughead shared a nervous look, glancing between FP’s stunned expression and Charles’s nervous one.

“Dad?” Jellybean broke the silence, confused as to why everyone was acting so strange, “Who is this guy?” 

“Great question, JB…” FP muttered, striding across the room in a few long steps. There was no mistaking the rage and fire in his eyes as he pulled Charles into the room by his shoulders and roughly slammed him into the wall of the foyer “Who are you really?! What do you want with my family?!”

“Mr. Jones!” Betty cried out, running forward.

“Dad!” Jughead called at the same time. But FP and Charles only had eyes for each other. The rest of the room may as well have not existed. The minute seemed to stretch on as the inferno in FP’s eyes met with Charles cool gaze.

“I am Charles Smith, son of Alice Cooper. I was born in 1992” Charles reached into his pocket, pulling out his badge and holding it up to eye level, his eyes never leaving FP’s as his father shifted his gaze over to the badge. “Also the son of Forsythe Pendleton Jones II” Charles lowered his badge and FP returned his gaze to his son, his eyes betraying a myriad of emotions “Any other proof you need?” FP lowered his hands and stepped back, shaking his head in a daze. He didn’t know how it could be possible. It shouldn’t be possible. Yet here he was. 

“Charles?” Charles nodded, finally breaking eye contact to blink away the quickly forming tears. But FP was far past the point of hiding and he pulled his son into a bone-crushing hug that Charles quickly returned with equal enthusiasm. He was finally home.

“Dad?” Jellybean interrupted, at a loss to understand the complicated emotional moment before her. FP let go of Charles and swallowed, trying to figure out how he could simplify the situation in a way that his daughter could understand. 

“Come on, JB. Let’s give your dad some space” Betty said, turning to look at FP before turning back to Jellybean, “I’ll explain everything while we work, okay?” Jellybean looked between everyone, crossing her arms in suspicion. Why did she have the feeling she was purposely being kept in the dark?

“Fine” Jellybean said, before pointing at Jughead, “But only if he comes with us”

“Jellybean…” Jughead began warningly. 

“Listen to your sister, boy. I’ll talk to you three later” FP shot Betty a grateful nod before turning to shoot Jughead a warning glare. Jughead looked away, trying not to be annoyed. His dad deserved a chance to speak to his long-lost son alone. 

“Come on, JB” 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Can I get you anything to drink?” FP asked as he fumbled around the kitchen for something to do while Charles sat in the living room. He needed to keep himself moving. “We’ve got…” FP opened the fridge to see a few cans of soda, a bottle of beer, and a half-empty carton of milk. He eyed the beer for a few seconds too long before pulling out the milk to sniff it and immediately toss it in the trash. “…soda or water” 

“Water would be great, thank you” FP nodded to himself, grabbing out two glasses and filling them with water from the sink. His hand shook as he filled the glasses. How was one supposed to act in this sort of situation? What were the guidelines for reuniting with the long-lost son you hadn’t even known about until recently? Who was working with your on-again-off-again girlfriend to bring down a cult? FP walked over, handing a glass over to Charles and taking a sip of his own. While he drank, he took a moment to take in his son. He had his mother’s hair and confident bearing, but he could see his own eyes and shrewdness. There was no mistaking that this was their son.

“So you’re not dead then” FP blurted out, wincing as he took another sip. Charles coughed politely.

“Mom told me about Chic. I’m sorry” His mom had told him all there was to know about the Chic situation. It had been Chic’s way of getting revenge on Charles by hurting the people who were important to him. At the time that had only been his half-sister and mother. But, unknown to him, his dad had been caught in the crossfire. FP didn’t respond, only leaned back and eyed Charles warily.

“So. FBI huh? Seems law enforcement is in the blood. That how you found us?”

“I’ve known about mom for a long time. I…” Charles stopped, taking a deep breath, “We only officially met during the Edgar case. She only recently told me about you. Before then, I had assumed…”

“You thought Hal was your father” FP laughed bitterly, getting up and walking over to the fireplace, “Not sure I’m exactly what you would have wanted either, but…”

“Until now I had assumed my father was a renowned sociopath and serial killer. I’m glad…” Charles swallowed, “I’m glad that’s not the case” FP laughed, a sharp humorless sound.

“Glad for the vote of confidence, son” The silence returned then, creeping into the room as if it had only been waiting for the chance to return. FP clenched and unclenched his fist at the fireplace while Charles fiddled with the glass in his hand.

“Mom told me about you” Charles finally spoke up, “About what…about everything that happened. I’m sorry”

“It’s not your fault” FP assured him, still not making eye contact, “Not hers, either. Things were complicated between us. What matters is that you’re here now” FP shook his head, clearing his thoughts and turning back to his son. His eyes were guarded again, his arms crossed. “Why are you here?”

“I came to ask Betty and Jughead for help with the case. They deserved to know what happened at the farm. We’re close to wrapping this case up, in part due to Alice’s contributions. With a little help, we should be able to catch Edgar and find Alice”

“You do realize I am the sheriff, right? Last time I checked, the FBI usually work with the local police or at the least keeps them informed of what’s going on”

“This is a case sensitive issue, sir. Giving you any information would have put our informant in jeopardy-”

“Oh, so it’s ‘sir’, now? What happened to ‘dad’?” 

“This is a very serious accusation. What you are accusing us of-” FP put his hands up in a pacifying gesture, stopping Charles in the middle of his rant. He sighed, sitting back down and rubbing his hand over his face. 

“No, I understand. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you’ve told me” FP looked back up, finally looking his son dead in the eye “But I will not allow any more of my children to get involved in this”

“You are not Betty’s legal guardian” Charles replied.

“I am not letting Alice’s teenage daughter get involved in a dangerous FBI case. She’s already been through enough this year. They both have”

“And you’ve been using your teenage son as law enforcement all year. I apologize if I am overstepping my boundaries, but how is that any different?”

“The difference is that I’m there to supervise him! I know my son has a habit of getting himself into these messes whether I want him to or not. But I can control whether I’m there to keep an eye on him” 

“So you don’t trust me?” Charles retorted, bitterness lacing his words. FP looked away. “Don’t answer that. The last person who claimed to be your son spent the past few months masquerading as your childhood boogeyman” Charles rubbed his face, much like FP had done earlier, “How about we make a deal? We could use your help on the case as well. If you were to help us, would you allow us to use Betty and Jughead’s expertise?”

“Edgar has moved out of Riverdale. It’s out of my jurisdiction”

“I’m not asking for the sheriff’s help, I’m asking for my father” FP leaned forward, analyzing the son he’d never known. The past few people he’d let in had all betrayed him or lied to him. How could he trust this total stranger? But looking into his son’s earnest eyes, so strikingly similar to his own, he knew he would never be able to say no. 

“It’s a deal”


	3. Chapter 3

June passed in a blur, as FP was kept busy with the tasks that came with cleaning up the mess that was Riverdale. Between cults, gang war, griffins and gargoyles, the black hood, and the entire drug trade debacle…it was a busy month of paperwork before the next big mess inevitably hit the tumultuous town. True to his word, Charles updated him on his case multiple times a week and he always had an idea of what Betty and Jughead were up to. He still didn’t like the idea of them getting involved in the whole organ harvesting mess, but he couldn’t deny that the kids were naturals. Still. The sooner this was all over, the better he could sleep at night.

July was a slower month as the investigation began to wrap up and the paperwork slowly but surely whittled down to a much more manageable amount. With many families going away on vacation and the summer holidays keeping the kids busy, crime had slowed down. There was still plenty to worry about, but nothing more than any other large town. Mostly just petty theft, the occasional shootout, and even things as dull as traffic regulations. Jughead and Betty were home more often and he’d even managed to force a few family day trips on them. It was a nice reprieve from the insanity they were all used to. It was more than he could have dreamed for.

Which is why he should have known it could never last. If there was one thing FP had learned over the course of his life, it was that good things almost always led to equally bad things. It was life’s way of keeping things interesting. One day you were hooking up with the hottest girl in the school, the next you were suspended for selling drugs. One day you were the kingpin of the local gang, the next you were being framed for murder. One day you were finally settled down and happy, the next your kids had disappeared on a “camping trip” never to return.

Looking back, it had been incredibly foolish of him to allow Betty and Jughead to go away for the weekend alone with Veronica and Archie. If there was trouble to be found, it almost always landed wherever and whenever the four of them were together. They were supposed to only be gone for a long weekend, but they hadn’t returned that Tuesday. Or that Wednesday. In fact, they hadn’t returned at all. FP had sent out a search party, combing out as far as he could, but the trail had run cold. A week later Charles had called with the news that he had found Archie, Veronica, and Betty knocked out in an abandoned field and covered in blood. He’d called Smithers and Mary, but the teenagers had refused to speak of what had happened. Charles told him he was keeping Betty there for questioning, but FP knew that the chances of her confessing to anything weren’t high. In fact, he had the sneaking suspicion that she was really just avoiding returning to the house. The next day he’d finally taken the bottle out of the fridge and downed it in one sitting.

FP had only meant for it to be a moment of weakness. It was only natural to be upset that his son had disappeared under mysterious circumstances. But a few nights later he had allowed himself another drink. Then another. And another after that. Soon enough, one day was blending into the next. He almost didn’t even notice when Jellybean ran away. As it was, he hadn’t realized she was gone until he found her working gloves lying on the kitchen table. 

By the middle of September, FP had essentially moved into office. It hurt to return to the reminder of the life he could have known. He could still hear Jellybean and Jughead’s banter. He could still see where they used to watch TV together on Friday nights. He could still feel Gladys in the bed beside him. Everything was filled with happy memories, now poisoned by his own flaws and this accursed town. His only solace was that Charles still kept him updated on what was going on, but FP refused to offer him the same courtesy. What would his son think of his old pop now? On this particular night, FP was working late on a recent automobile accident case file, taking his time as he nursed a bottle of beer. It was then that the door slammed open, jolting him from his work. Standing in the doorway was none other than Alice Cooper herself.

“Where the hell is my daughter, FP?” Were the first words out of her mouth as she stormed into the room, all fire and rage. She was just as beautiful as she’d been the last time he’d seen her and in the dim lighting of the room and the foggy haze of his alcohol-addled mind, she looked like the angel of death.

“Alice…” He mumbled, getting up from his desk and walking towards her, afraid with every step that the illusion might shatter, “They found you. I can’t believe it. I-” Before he could finish his sentence, he felt a sharp blow to the face and he staggered backwards in surprise. When he looked back up, Alice was towering over him, livid.

“Where. Is. My daughter, FP?” 

“She’s with our son, Alice” He spat, rubbing his face, “They were looking for you. I’m surprised you haven’t seen them already”

“Jughead got me out. I haven’t heard from anyone else” She narrowed her eyes and put a hand on her hip, “That still doesn’t explain why Betty isn’t in Riverdale, she-” But FP had stopped listening after Alice had said the name of his son. Jughead had saved her. Not Charles. Not Betty. Jughead.

“Is he with you?” FP said, brushing past her to search desperately out the door as if he might be hiding in every closet, behind every door, underneath every chair. 

“No, he’s not. Are you even listening to me, FP?” FP turned back to Alice, trying and failing not to let his disappointment show. “You mean to tell me you lost them both? I only left you alone for three months!” 

“They were supposed to only be gone for a few days. It was supposed to just be a regular camping trip. How was I supposed to know?” FP muttered as he walked back into his office and leaned against his desk. Alice was still staring at him, her judgement practically radiating off her. FP could feel anger beginning to settle in his stomach as she watched him, his eyes going dark “You weren’t there, Alice. You don’t understand”

“I was trying to stop a cult!” Alice rolled her eyes, “You can’t expect me to be everywhere at once”

“You could have at least tried to be there for Betty” The silence went from heated to icy in an instant. FP flinched, but he was not willing to take back the words. Alice narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. FP half expected to see his breath, the room was so frigid.

“Exactly what are you implying?”

“Did you know Betty had been visiting Hal in secret for the past year?” Alice flinched, but FP continued, “You joined the cult for a story. Your daughter joined it because she had nowhere else to go”

“Don’t you dare turn this against me. I wasn’t the one who lost them” The silence continued for another long minute before FP rubbed his face and moved back behind his desk.

“You’re right. I’m sorry” FP laughed bitterly, eyeing the bottle of beer with longing for a moment before turning his exhausted eyes onto Alice, “Seems that’s all I can do anymore. Gladys, Betty, Jughead, Charles, Jellybean, you…” Alice followed the direction where his gaze had been earlier and saw the bottle of beer on the desk. Looking at the mostly empty bottle, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. “Yeah, I know. Pathetic, right?”

“FP…”

“You don’t have to say anything” He said, “Everyone has their role. The princess, the jock, the politician, the suburban mom, the deadbeat dad…”

“Alright, come on” Alice said, grabbing the beer and disposing of it in the nearby sink, “I’m taking you home” 

“I’m fine, Alice” Alice looked him up and down, really taking a good look this time. His eyes were bloodshot, his beard was ragged, and his clothes were rumpled. He probably  
hadn’t washed them in days. She wasn’t even sure if he’d bathed in days. He’d probably been sleeping in his office. And here she was, yelling at him for things that were out of his control. No wonder he’d reacted so defensively. 

“I’m not asking” She repeated, schooling her best ‘mom’ expression. FP rolled his eyes like the unruly teenager she remembered.

“Yes, mam” He said, mock saluting her. Alice took him to the car then, making sure he made it there without tripping over his own feet. He really was plastered and Alice wondered how she hadn’t noticed before. It was a short ride from the Sherriff’s office to her old house, but it felt like an eternity. FP was fast asleep in the front seat and he looked so innocent that Alice couldn’t help but feel her heart soften. Yeah, she’d had a couple of tough months. But he hadn’t been wrong, either. Distancing herself from Betty had been one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do, but she had told herself that she was doing it to save Polly. To save Charles. Even to save Betty. But at what cost? It hadn’t made it any easier and their conversation about the whereabouts of her daughter was far from over. But for now, FP really looked like he could use some rest.

When they got to the accursed old building she used to call a home, she pulled FP out of the car. His only response was a groan as he let her lead him to her old bedroom. She felt herself blush, but immediately shook herself out of it. Now was not the time for foolish sentimentality. She helped untie FP’s shoes and took off his hat and belt. She bit her lip then decided there wouldn’t be any harm in tucking him in, too. It was for practicality. Glancing at the clock she saw that it was 2 AM and decided now would probably be a good time to get changed and get some rest herself in Betty’s bed. But as she began to leave, FP’s hand shot out and weakly grabbed her by the wrist. His eyes were open and the vulnerability in them stopped her in her tracks.

“Stay. Please don’t leave me…” Alice hesitated for barely a second before nodding. How could she possibly say no after everything?

“I’m not going anywhere”

**Author's Note:**

> So this was supposed to be an FP/Alice fic, but it turned into more of a "Frazzled Stressed-Out Single Father FP" and his four kids story. Either way, it's the first fanfiction i've written in over five years. I hope you all like it and that I got it somewhat in character! :)


End file.
